"Enter through the narrow gate; for the gate is wide and the road is easy that leads to destruction, and there are many who take it. The gate is narrow and the road is hard that leads to life, and there are few who find it" (Matthew 7:13-14).
Divine Challenger, when did I stop risking? When did I lose my edge for adventure and surprise? When did I start pretending that what I now know is all there is to know? When did I give in to fear and bow to security? When did I let uncertainty press against my free spirit? When did I start moving toward the easy, sure thing? When did I give away my ability to be disturbed? When did I start refusing to pay the price for fuller depth and joy? When did I let panic of the unknown future wrap its barbed wire fingers around my desire to grow?
Inner Source of Courage, nudge me toward my growth. Urge me away from the strongholds. Convince me of my potential to leap beyond the barriers.
This would be a good example of those moments throughout this series of reflections which encourage immediate engagement into the process of change. I have to accept that at the moment, I am best served to pray and consider that where I am today is where I am supposed to be. I may not be, however, where I will be in 2 years. But I must trust that if I continue to question, continue to communicate with God and with others, I will find my way.
It is both a bit intimidating and exciting to consider the nature of the road less traveled. To face this risk, to leave the comforts of secure routines and familiar places and faces, is indeed an act of faith and not an easy one at that. But this is what makes the act so intriguing and so rewarding. To take the road less traveled, to seek the most growth-inspiring and fulfilling choices in life, is the best way to have lived a life truly worth living.
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Sunday, April 22, 2012
Friday, Week 4 - We Are All God's Children
"The compassion of human beings is for their neighbors, but the compassion of the Lord if for every living thing" (Sirach 18:13).
I have hope because there are people in wealthy nations whose awareness of the rest of the world ismaking a difference. They want to help. They are working to change the great gap between the haves and have-nots. I see the choices these generous and compassionate people are making. Their selflessness and kind-heartedness encourages me to make better decisions about how I live and how I give. I do not believe that it is a matter of condemning a comfortable life but, rather, of wanting this for all people.
It is good that we are challenged to use our resources in such a way that others can also have a more humane life. It is essential that we are reminded often that each human being is our sister or our brother. It is the message that Jesus taught so long ago. It is an ageless teaching and we are always in need of re-learning and living the message. Lent is a good time to re-enter the heart of this teaching.
I sometimes have a hard time envisioning how it is that I hope to make a significant impact in my community. Right now, it seems as though my reach is very short. I don't seem to know the right people. My involvement this far only seems to affect a handful of people, and those effects are subtle.
I think I can relate this idea to learning a new skill. A couple of weeks ago, I made an impulsive decision to purchase an affordable acoustic guitar ($50, free shipping!) and try to learn it! I can proudly say now I know about 10 chords, and can sight-read simple sheet music. The point is this: When I first picked up the guitar, it seemed a long way off before I could play even a few chords and transition between them seemlessly. Now, just a few days of practice later, I can play short pieces (and even sing along with them if I so desire!). We are capable of dramatic growth in fairly short periods of time, no matter how difficult the task may seem.
I believe this idea applies to my role in the community. If I'm active in taking the right steps to meet the right people and get involved in the right places, I can sculpt for myself a situation in which I can make an impact in a greater way. Again, though, patience must be in play. Restless patience is the key.
I have hope because there are people in wealthy nations whose awareness of the rest of the world ismaking a difference. They want to help. They are working to change the great gap between the haves and have-nots. I see the choices these generous and compassionate people are making. Their selflessness and kind-heartedness encourages me to make better decisions about how I live and how I give. I do not believe that it is a matter of condemning a comfortable life but, rather, of wanting this for all people.
It is good that we are challenged to use our resources in such a way that others can also have a more humane life. It is essential that we are reminded often that each human being is our sister or our brother. It is the message that Jesus taught so long ago. It is an ageless teaching and we are always in need of re-learning and living the message. Lent is a good time to re-enter the heart of this teaching.
I sometimes have a hard time envisioning how it is that I hope to make a significant impact in my community. Right now, it seems as though my reach is very short. I don't seem to know the right people. My involvement this far only seems to affect a handful of people, and those effects are subtle.
I think I can relate this idea to learning a new skill. A couple of weeks ago, I made an impulsive decision to purchase an affordable acoustic guitar ($50, free shipping!) and try to learn it! I can proudly say now I know about 10 chords, and can sight-read simple sheet music. The point is this: When I first picked up the guitar, it seemed a long way off before I could play even a few chords and transition between them seemlessly. Now, just a few days of practice later, I can play short pieces (and even sing along with them if I so desire!). We are capable of dramatic growth in fairly short periods of time, no matter how difficult the task may seem.
I believe this idea applies to my role in the community. If I'm active in taking the right steps to meet the right people and get involved in the right places, I can sculpt for myself a situation in which I can make an impact in a greater way. Again, though, patience must be in play. Restless patience is the key.
Thursday, Week 4 - Overcoming My Fears
"For freedom Christ has set us free. Stand firm, therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery" (Galatians 5:10).
Part of me yearns for inner freedom yet hides from it at the same time, the place in me that resists coming home to my truest self. It is in this unfree place that I hide from what will bring me to greater wholeness.
How can I resist the invitation to personal wholeness, to be my truest self, when I am always yearning for this in my life? Yet, I do resist it. There are times when I allow my fears, anxieties, or confusions to keep me from making a change in my life that would be for my growth.
Sometimes it has been something rather simple, like trying on a new style of behavior. For example, I recognize this happening in me when my life and work call me to be in a "high extrovert" situation, meeting and greeting new people, entering into long hours of socializing and relating to strangers. The part of me that knows how delicious it feels to be an introvert wants to run and hide, to not reach out, to close my inner door and go home to solitude and quiet.
Last weekend, I had the pleasure to travel with my roommate and many of our friends (14 in all!) to Wichita, Kansas, where my roommate grew up, and his Dad has a farm with a whole slew of activities to keep us more than entertained (horseback riding, ATVs, and a zipline into water, to name a few). I had one of the easiest, more relaxing, enjoyable days of my life just exploring the various adventures of the property, but I also managed to find another, totally separate takeaway from the weekend.
An "old friend" (it feels strange to even be able to say that at the age of 23) from Tucson just happened to be in Wichita at the time. So Saturday night, I sent him a few text messages, and before I knew it, I was face to face with him, catching up on life and hitting all sorts of topics. He's a few years older than I am (we are acquainted through the Church we were both active at in Tucson), so fortunately he is in a position to give me some experienced insight into the discernment process. There are two main messages that stick out to me from my relatively extensive chat with him:
1) Your company does not own you. He illustrated his point with his own career snapshot. He defines himself by his qualifications, experiences, and industry expertise, not by the company he works for. That is not to say he isn't proud of the company he works for - he certainly is. But he also recognizes his independence. This gives him the freedom and flexibility to be himself to the fullest degree.
2) The discernment process never ends. He affirmed my restlessness by convincing me that his mind is not in such a different place. He was very honest in his consideration of his option (and potential!) to veer from the comfortable career path, despite knowing he's good at what he does and even feels a decent amount of pride and satisfaction from his work.
I so appreciated the conversation with my friend, and have to believe that the Holy Spirit had some involvement in bringing us together last weekend in Wichita. I can only hope it served him in some way, as it served me.
Part of me yearns for inner freedom yet hides from it at the same time, the place in me that resists coming home to my truest self. It is in this unfree place that I hide from what will bring me to greater wholeness.
How can I resist the invitation to personal wholeness, to be my truest self, when I am always yearning for this in my life? Yet, I do resist it. There are times when I allow my fears, anxieties, or confusions to keep me from making a change in my life that would be for my growth.
Sometimes it has been something rather simple, like trying on a new style of behavior. For example, I recognize this happening in me when my life and work call me to be in a "high extrovert" situation, meeting and greeting new people, entering into long hours of socializing and relating to strangers. The part of me that knows how delicious it feels to be an introvert wants to run and hide, to not reach out, to close my inner door and go home to solitude and quiet.
Last weekend, I had the pleasure to travel with my roommate and many of our friends (14 in all!) to Wichita, Kansas, where my roommate grew up, and his Dad has a farm with a whole slew of activities to keep us more than entertained (horseback riding, ATVs, and a zipline into water, to name a few). I had one of the easiest, more relaxing, enjoyable days of my life just exploring the various adventures of the property, but I also managed to find another, totally separate takeaway from the weekend.
An "old friend" (it feels strange to even be able to say that at the age of 23) from Tucson just happened to be in Wichita at the time. So Saturday night, I sent him a few text messages, and before I knew it, I was face to face with him, catching up on life and hitting all sorts of topics. He's a few years older than I am (we are acquainted through the Church we were both active at in Tucson), so fortunately he is in a position to give me some experienced insight into the discernment process. There are two main messages that stick out to me from my relatively extensive chat with him:
1) Your company does not own you. He illustrated his point with his own career snapshot. He defines himself by his qualifications, experiences, and industry expertise, not by the company he works for. That is not to say he isn't proud of the company he works for - he certainly is. But he also recognizes his independence. This gives him the freedom and flexibility to be himself to the fullest degree.
2) The discernment process never ends. He affirmed my restlessness by convincing me that his mind is not in such a different place. He was very honest in his consideration of his option (and potential!) to veer from the comfortable career path, despite knowing he's good at what he does and even feels a decent amount of pride and satisfaction from his work.
I so appreciated the conversation with my friend, and have to believe that the Holy Spirit had some involvement in bringing us together last weekend in Wichita. I can only hope it served him in some way, as it served me.
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Wednesday, Week 4 - With God in All Times
"How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!" (Matthew 23:37)
Our awareness of the loving presence of God does not mean that we will never have moments of feelings angry at God or abandoned by God or be just plain unfeeling toward God during times of loss. These are natural, human responses of grief and some feel them more strongly than others. But we will not go on forever blaming God for causing the situation or for not intervening and stopping the event. If our image of God is a positive one, we will eventually return to a time when we recognize the comfort and love that are waiting there for us.
Our God is a God who dwells within, a loving presence near to us who yearns for our happiness, one who walks with us in our struggles. If our God is a God who holds us close as a mother hen gathers her chicks close to her, then we will come through our goodbyes with a deeper sense of being tenderly cared for by our God and we will draw comfort and strength from this presence.
Now it is officially after Lent, and of course, I did not make it through all of the reflections (really, not even close). But I have found this exercise to be peaceful and always intended for this Lenten promise to last beyond Easter Sunday, whether I had finished the reflections provided by Sr. Joyce, or not.
Tonight, I am reminded once again of the constant presence of God not just in my life, but within me. As I began to read through Sr. Joyce's reflection, thoughts crept into my mind... I know, already. How many times do you have to tell me, "God is with you"?
The answer to that question is this: Over, and over, and over again. How quickly I forget, how quickly I fail to acknowledge God's presence in my life on a daily ... hourly basis! Why not hourly? Shouldn't everything I do be for the greater glory of God? Couldn't it?
Looking back over the patterns of my life, I know this much about myself: I do not grow angry with God during the dark times of my life. In fact, my relationship with Him consistently thrives in those times. I have been blessed with the natural instinct to turn to Him, not against Him, when I am in the most need. Where I'd like to progress is in those times when things are going my way. All too often I take my life for granted when it's shaped up to be just what I had hoped. Sometimes I even make the grave mistake of crediting myself for how well my life is going, rather than Him...
Our awareness of the loving presence of God does not mean that we will never have moments of feelings angry at God or abandoned by God or be just plain unfeeling toward God during times of loss. These are natural, human responses of grief and some feel them more strongly than others. But we will not go on forever blaming God for causing the situation or for not intervening and stopping the event. If our image of God is a positive one, we will eventually return to a time when we recognize the comfort and love that are waiting there for us.
Our God is a God who dwells within, a loving presence near to us who yearns for our happiness, one who walks with us in our struggles. If our God is a God who holds us close as a mother hen gathers her chicks close to her, then we will come through our goodbyes with a deeper sense of being tenderly cared for by our God and we will draw comfort and strength from this presence.
Now it is officially after Lent, and of course, I did not make it through all of the reflections (really, not even close). But I have found this exercise to be peaceful and always intended for this Lenten promise to last beyond Easter Sunday, whether I had finished the reflections provided by Sr. Joyce, or not.
Tonight, I am reminded once again of the constant presence of God not just in my life, but within me. As I began to read through Sr. Joyce's reflection, thoughts crept into my mind... I know, already. How many times do you have to tell me, "God is with you"?
The answer to that question is this: Over, and over, and over again. How quickly I forget, how quickly I fail to acknowledge God's presence in my life on a daily ... hourly basis! Why not hourly? Shouldn't everything I do be for the greater glory of God? Couldn't it?
Looking back over the patterns of my life, I know this much about myself: I do not grow angry with God during the dark times of my life. In fact, my relationship with Him consistently thrives in those times. I have been blessed with the natural instinct to turn to Him, not against Him, when I am in the most need. Where I'd like to progress is in those times when things are going my way. All too often I take my life for granted when it's shaped up to be just what I had hoped. Sometimes I even make the grave mistake of crediting myself for how well my life is going, rather than Him...
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Tuesday, Week 4 - Befriending the Darkness
"Are your wonders known in the darkness, or your saving help in the land of forgetfulness?" (Psalm 88:12).
There is no way that we can avoid inner darkness completely. If we did so, we would be tossing out a vital part of our transformation. Rather than getting rid of darkness, we need to search for ways that we can befriend it.
The difficult thing about darkness as an essential part of our life is that we can know this fact intellectually but run from it emotionally. All we care about is getting rid of the dreadful experience, moving on, feeling good again. When darkness descends upon the human heart, we spend most of our energy doing battle with it rather than befriending it and seeing what gift it might be offering us.
Any kind of darkness can call us, push us, nudge us, and urge us onto the path of inner growth. Darkness can wake us up and stir questions in us that we'd rather not face: How do the patterns of my behavior influence my life? Whom or what have I taken for granted? Have I been attentive to the deepest longings of my soul?
Of all of the messages expressed by Sr. Joyce throughout these reflections, this is definitely one of the freshest I have come across. This idea of "befriending the darkness" is truly new for me. Of course, we have talked about how times of darkness are often the times of greatest growth, but this reflection, I believe, takes it to a whole new level.
Befriending the darkness. I recognize that in times of stress and confusion (which tend to be my versions of darkness), Sr. Joyce is exactly right: I spend all my energy trying to figure out what it is I need to do to feel good again, even something as trivial as a mental trick.
I've also often heard the welcomed advice: "Offer it up." This comes a little closer to what we're considering here as it pertains to how tightly we're called to embrace our own struggles.
Moving forward, I think I have an opportunity to move closer towards embracing my own inner darkness, appreciating it for the chance to grow, rather than despising it and simply doing what I can to avoid it.
There is no way that we can avoid inner darkness completely. If we did so, we would be tossing out a vital part of our transformation. Rather than getting rid of darkness, we need to search for ways that we can befriend it.
The difficult thing about darkness as an essential part of our life is that we can know this fact intellectually but run from it emotionally. All we care about is getting rid of the dreadful experience, moving on, feeling good again. When darkness descends upon the human heart, we spend most of our energy doing battle with it rather than befriending it and seeing what gift it might be offering us.
Any kind of darkness can call us, push us, nudge us, and urge us onto the path of inner growth. Darkness can wake us up and stir questions in us that we'd rather not face: How do the patterns of my behavior influence my life? Whom or what have I taken for granted? Have I been attentive to the deepest longings of my soul?
Of all of the messages expressed by Sr. Joyce throughout these reflections, this is definitely one of the freshest I have come across. This idea of "befriending the darkness" is truly new for me. Of course, we have talked about how times of darkness are often the times of greatest growth, but this reflection, I believe, takes it to a whole new level.
Befriending the darkness. I recognize that in times of stress and confusion (which tend to be my versions of darkness), Sr. Joyce is exactly right: I spend all my energy trying to figure out what it is I need to do to feel good again, even something as trivial as a mental trick.
I've also often heard the welcomed advice: "Offer it up." This comes a little closer to what we're considering here as it pertains to how tightly we're called to embrace our own struggles.
Moving forward, I think I have an opportunity to move closer towards embracing my own inner darkness, appreciating it for the chance to grow, rather than despising it and simply doing what I can to avoid it.
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